


Different

by Delysia



Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, One Shot, Post Slow Burn, Step Forward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delysia/pseuds/Delysia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam can't see it but he can feel it. Something has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different

**Author's Note:**

> Set directly post Slow Burn. Sam can't see it but he can feel it. Something has changed.

**Different**

 

Sam can't see it but he can feel it.

Something has changed.

Jules isn't fumbling out of bed to get something- anything. A cup of tea, a shirt to sleep in, to check the dryer; something to busy herself with because she can never just stay.

Tonight.. .tonight she is still.

They are a tangled mess of limbs and sheets and not enough pillows because her room is understandably unfussy and they have yet to make any of those purchases together. The ones that signify that they are building a life together beyond toothbrushes and food with an expiration date. The ones where they will have to debate firmness and synthetic versus down and start constructing something more than just the temporary.

But tonight is different.

There is the slightest up hitch of her ear and though he cannot see it, he knows she is smiling. Reading the back of her head has become an art form. The pernicious incline forward when she is about to bolt. The slightest roll to the left when she is annoyed. The up tick of her ear when she cannot help but smile. Those real smiles, where her teeth show and she forgets everything but that moment.

Sam loves those smiles. Wants to collect them like snapshots and hide them under his bed like how he used to keep his favorite hockey memorabilia, away from Natalie's sticky fingers and prying eyes. A treasure trove for him alone.

Jules shifts against him. Not away. Not forward to set the alarm on her bedside table, to some compulsive need to check the door he watched her lock, or to write out that grocery list for tomorrow.

Tonight, she doesn't pull away.

Instead she inches back ever so slightly so that her body is nestled against his, the satin skin of her back pressing against his chest. He doesn't have to stretch to reach for her. She is right there, in his arms and so close that he is having a difficult time distinguishing where she ends and he begins. It's a problem he hopes to never solve.

He cannot resist the urge to nuzzle her neck with his nose and press a kiss on her left shoulder, the blinds of her window letting blades light from the street below splash across his back. Her skin smells of sun and water and wind. She smells like spring, like the hope he felt surge through his veins when Sarge gave them the news. There was no need for contingency plans, no need to pack up his belongings and report to the General that he had failed again. No need for anything but her hand in his and then her arms wrapped around him.

They could stay. He could stay.

They could just be Sam and Jules.

No more hiding, no more sneaking, no more fear.

Just Sam and Jules.

They had spent the afternoon laughing a little louder, grinning a little more often, and for once Sam didn't have to stop himself from reaching for her hand. He could hold it, there in public, with their team. He could proudly link his fingers with hers and declare to the world that she was his. And later, after the volleyball tournament where Ed and Jules quickly made mincemeat of all that dare challenge them, he was able to sit on a blanket with her wrapped in his arms as they watched the sun slip away.

No need to let her go.

Not then.

Not ever.

The whole group had lingered on until it was clearly past time to leave. Izzy waving a fist and letting out a cranky cry, reminding them of the lateness of the hour. Wordy's three girls finally claiming boredom, Spike no longer up for chasing them back and forth on the beach. They had all pitched in- folding chairs, packing food, cleaning until the only remnants of their presence were the photos that Winny had happily snapped all afternoon and promised to email later.

Sam has already predetermined he wants the one with Jules and Wordy's three girls to hang in his locker. The four of them had been sitting in a row while each braided the hair of the person in front of her, the youngest focusing on her doll and Jules bringing up the rear. It made Sam's heart melt and come Monday he will be able to greet and end everyday with it. Sam is sure the razzing will come but honestly it will be a welcome reprieve for the secrets and lies.

Once the beach was erased of their presence besides happy memories, Jules had taken his hand in hers and Sam just knew. Something had shifted.

They had made it to back to her place in contented silence only to fall into fumbling kisses and desperate touches once the door was closed behind them. There were somethings that could not be deleted with a few almost perfect hours. That underlying fear that _this_ had almost ended came bubbling to the surface, playing out as hungry kisses and fingers that clung a little too tightly. There was no time for stairs, for anything but her lips on his neck, his breath fanning against her chest as his hands claimed her hips, settling on the sofa instead. There were no words spoken, only those soft involuntary cries that escaped her throat and were so delicious to his ears. Instead he focused on the feel of her body silking beneath his. The way her fingers kept clawing at him and the pull her heels on his back bringing him even closer as if she wanted to erase all the space between them. 

After, when his breath had slowed and his mind could form a coherent thought besides  _mine_ , he had brushed her bangs back, looking directly into her doe eyes. “Are you okay?”

She had shoved him off with a smile. “Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem... different.” It wasn't the most articulate way to put it and he could almost see her crawling back inside herself, walls rapidly ascending.

“I'm just hungry.” Shirt drawn back on and a return to the status-quo.

But not quite. She didn't ask if he was staying over, didn't come up with an excuse as to why he should maybe spend the night anywhere else but beside her. Just tucked her feet under herself and asked what they were going to do about dinner. She really was starving.

They ended up ordering a pizza. She acquiesced and let him get ham even though she picked it all off. Feeding it to him from the side of her plate as they sat on her sofa watching  _Speed_ and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. A surprisingly normal end to a day that had careened wildly from fear that they would not only lose each other but lose Sarge to elation when they found out Team One wouldn't be changing anytime soon.

There had been another round of love making after brushed teeth and bedtime rituals. The sort of little things that take people from dating to couple status, that comfortable familiarity. Jules had emerged from her walk in closet clad in one of his shirts and all thoughts of sleep had flown out of his mind. It was less hurried then before. Less frantic need and more about the achingly slow buildup. Feather light kisses that teased, sweet spots exploited, and that burn that promised a lifetime of passion.

After he curls up behind her, both of them blissfully satiated and unwilling to move out the evening's comfort besides drawing the other closer.

He never knew it could be like this. Not exactly easy, nothing with Jules ever is, but simple. The fear ebbing, slowly disappearing as she snuggles in closer to him.

“We should build some shelves.”

Her comment shatters the silence and he finds himself lifting up to peer over her shoulder at her in the darkness. “What are you talking about?”

“In my closet,” she continues and he can tell this is what she has been mulling over for the past fifteen minutes. “So you have a more space for your stuff. That drawer really isn't big enough.”

“Really?” It comes out unbidden but he quickly covers, he learned a long time ago to follow her lead. “Yeah, we can do that.”

Of course they can do that. His mind is already jumping ten more steps ahead to the room next to hers. It would be a perfect nursery. They could paint it- blue, pink, alien green, he doesn't care. He swallows the thought down with a smile.  _Easy there,_ Braddock. One step at a time.

Still something is different.

Jules wants to build him shelves.

She lifts her head to fiddle with her pillow before plopping back down with a sigh. “And tomorrow we are buying some more pillows. I can't sleep when you have the other one.”

Oh yes, something is different indeed.

 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos or comments are love.


End file.
